


The Road To Yavin-4

by walk_ng_d_saster



Series: Disaster Boyfriends [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Anger, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Boners, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Shenanigans, Fluff, Friendship, Getting to Know Each Other, Humor, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Meet the Family, Past Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Protectiveness, Rejection, To Be Continued, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29294379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walk_ng_d_saster/pseuds/walk_ng_d_saster
Summary: This story covers the events that lead up to Zajeer's arrival on Yavin-4. With his new love interest Theron Shan on board and all of the clashing personalities, it's going to be one hell of an experience. Hopefully the two of them can come out of it intact!
Relationships: Male Smuggler/Akaavi Spar, Nadrun/Akaavi Spar, Theron Shan/Male Smuggler, Theron Shan/Zajeer Kim
Series: Disaster Boyfriends [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922869
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

With Theron following closely behind him, Zajeer strutted the length of the docks of Raider's Cove. He paused at the end to wave his hands up in the air, and then he saw it approach. His ship with its familiar rounded shape, the front of it tapered kind of like a teardrop but with a sawed off flattened tip. To one side of the ship, a rectangular shape extended to form the cargo bay, and towards the back a ramp was lowering to grant them access.

The ship spun in the air and came to hover with the lowered ramp pointed at Zajeer, who glanced at Theron over his shoulder. Theron, it seemed, was a little bit speechless at the sight of the freighter. The human's jaw had dropped and he was looking very silly with his mouth wide open. It was a good thing he had his bag of belongings slung firmly over one shoulder, because if he hadn't done that he might have _dropped_ it.

“C'mon, Theron! She can't hover forever and she's wastin' precious fuel with every second!” Zajeer climbed onto the ramp and turned to extend a helping hand towards the human, who seemed to have finally shaken himself out of his state of shock and awe and was now waiting for him at the edge of the ramp. Theron grabbed the hand with a grateful smile, and Zajeer stepped back to give him space to climb up. Then, the two of them carefully made their way up the ramp, around a corner, and into the airlock. Zajeer kept a hold of Theron's hand to steady him, sensing his sudden nervousness at being on an unfamiliar ship.

Once they were safely inside, Zajeer let go of Theron and made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

“Welcome to _The_ _Stargazer_! You're here as my guest, so feel free to make yourself at home. The ship's layout is one big circle, so as long as you stick to the outermost walls you should be able to find your way around.” Zajeer paused, then, and looked Theron in the eye before continuing to speak. “You'll find the bunks down one of those outer corridors, but the offer I made earlier still stands. If you would rather stay close to me, I wouldn't mind sharing _my_ bed. It's big enough that we can sleep on separate sides and have plenty of room, and if you stay in _my_ room then no one will be tempted to go through your things while you're not looking.”

“I know _you_ better than I know the rest of the crew, so maybe I'd better just stay with you,” Theron replied. “I'd like to put my bag down, and I'm sure you'd like to put your things away, so which way should I go?”

“Oh! Right!” Zajeer smiled sheepishly, and gestured to their left,. “My quarters are along the outer wall, but they're on the other side of the ship. Here. I'll show you. You should probably _see_ the room, anyways, before you decide you're going to sleep there. I would hate for you to decide on a room you'll be uncomfortable in.” Sidestepping around Theron, the nautolan sauntered around the curving corridor of the ship and stopped beside one of the silvery doors set into the outer wall. Once there, he keyed in his code to open the door. He made no effort to conceal which ones he'd pressed or in what order, glancing over his shoulder to see if the SIS Agent was paying attention. Apparently he was, because at Zajeer's questioning look, Theron nodded.

 _Good_. He wouldn't have to say the sequence out loud and risk a certain _fish stick_ overhearing the codes.

As the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss, the nautolan stepped back and gestured for Theron to enter first, which the human did... albeit cautiously and carefully. Once he was inside, Zajeer stepped in after him, immediately crossing the room and setting his bag of belongings down on the desk.

The little room Zajeer lived in was fairly neat and tidy, with only a few datapads scattered haphazardly over one side of the desk. Stuck to the wall behind the desk were a bunch of different coloured sticky notes reminding him of future deliveries and missions. After giving a cursory glance at the notes still stuck to the wall, he ripped down the notes that read ' _Water we doing here,_ ' ' _We have an infestation of Rakata_ ,' and ' _Vacation on Rishi_ ' and chucked them in the trash before Theron could judge his goofy sense of humour.

There was a muted _thump_ as Theron set his bag beside the door, and then the human crossed the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Zajeer watched as Theron gave an experimental bounce or two as if he was testing how comfortable it was, and then looked over at Zajeer with a deep furrow in his brow.

“You're absolutely _sure_ I won't be imposing by staying here?” Theron asked. He sounded _nervous_ , this time. “I mean... We're getting familiar with each other and I _really_ like you, but I don't want to overstep my boundaries.” The words 'I don't want to drive you away' were heavily implied.

“M'I gonna have t'kiss you again t'make you stop worryin'?” Zajeer's teasing response made the human's eyes go wide, and the nautolan was pleased to see Theron's cheeks, ears, and the tip of his nose turn as scarlet as his jacket. Dropping his own bag of belongings beside Theron's, Zajeer perched himself to the human's left side. From there, he wrapped his arm around Theron's shoulders and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I care about you, Theron. S'long as you're only bein' affectionate, there's nothin' you could do right now that would overstep your boundaries. I'd only really kick you out if you were to try 'n take advantage of me while I slept.”

“I would _never_ ,” said Theron quickly, seemingly _appalled_ that Zajeer had gone in that direction.

“Then we're good, Sweetheart.” With that said, Zajeer flashed Theron an easy smile and then released him from his hold. “Hell, I'd welcome a few more of those kisses and a cuddle if I didn't know that the crew are expectin' me up on the bridge. I've gotta determine our course for the evening before we can do anythin' else, but we're gonna stop over someplace for supplies and fuel like I said, and then I'm gonna whip us all up some food that tastes better than rations. I've got some cooking elements, pots and pans, and some seasonings I stashed away in the kitchen that I've been savin' for a special occasion. Was gonna cook enough for Lana and Jakarro too, but they left _way_ too fast.”

“Would you like any help with the food? I might not know much, but if you show me an example of how you want things sliced, I can help you there.” Theron offered.

“If you're willing to help out, then sure,” Zajeer replied, smiling. “Care to join me on the bridge? I'll give you a little tour of the ship while we're on our way there.”

-o-

The Stargazer proved to be _homier_ than Theron had expected, with state-of-the-art bathroom facilities that allowed for real water showers as well as sonic ones. The common area had a comfortable looking couch and a holo-table, with extra padded chairs available for additional guests. The hallways were neatly swept and the different colours of lighting gave the ship an atmosphere reminiscent of a well-kept casino in Nar Shaddaa. From what he could see of the bunks and living quarters, the ship had all of the creature comforts and amenities that a smuggler and his crew could want. It was a cozy home base for Zajeer, albeit a home base that could skip from one end of the galaxy to the other in just a matter of _days_. The ship's engines were unlike any Theron had seen.

They were stopping at a supply station in the middle of uncharted space. A movable space station that was aptly named _Port Nowhere_. The smuggler crew had come to the agreement that Carrick Station wouldn't be a safe place for them to dock for supplies with the Revanites all still at large. All it would take was one wrong move for the lot of them to end up captured by defecting Republic authorities and thrown into prison or executed. Either way, their mission would fail if they were to get themselves caught.

The nautolan was currently seated in the pilot's chair, watching the stars with a keen golden gaze as they blurred past the ship. His posture was relaxed, and he looked completely at ease and comfortable with where he sat. This was Zajeer in his element. A space-faring Captain. A famous smuggler. A Republic privateer. Someone who had made his home and his livelihood in the stars. Someone who was free to go wherever he wanted to go. No rules. No boundaries. Just wide open space that went on forever, dotted with stars.

“If you don't mind my asking, how did you get into this life?” Theron asked.

As soon as the question left Theron's lips, Zajeer whipped his head around to stare at him with wide eyes and a slightly nervous expression on his face. An awkward silence settled between them, and as the minutes stretched on _Theron_ began to feel nervous. Had he overstepped his boundaries?

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you,” he mumbled after five minutes, dropping his gaze to stare at his feet.

“It's not that, Theron,” Zajeer replied, and suddenly a leather-clad hand was gripping Theron's shoulder in a grip that was surprisingly firm for fingers so thin. “It's just that you're the first person who's ever asked me about my life.” Zajeer replied, and then he let out a soft chuckle. “Well, okay... Apart from my brother and sister, that is.”

“There are _more_ like you?” Theron blurted out.

“Not quite. One is a twi'lek I rescued from slavery on Nar Shaddaa, and then there's a zabrak who's got nobody. He didn't fit in with his own folks back on Balmorra, so he ran away. I found him putzin' around Ord Mantell lookin' bored out of his skull, and I offered him a spot on my crew,” As Theron stared at him, Zajeer shrugged, letting go of Theron's shoulder and moving back to the chair he had recently vacated. “Yeah, I know... We're not related by blood or even by species, but we're still a family. We help and support each other through whatever we need and whatever we're goin' through.”

“Are your brother and sister _here_? On this ship?” Theron couldn't have kept the little crack out of his voice if he tried. From what he had read about Zajeer in his intelligence files, the nautolan had lead a very interesting life... but apparently it didn't stop at what the SIS and the government had records of. There was a whole other side of Zajeer that Theron had never seen, and if Theron's hunch was correct then what intel he had was only the layer of frosting on top of the cake.

“Yes, actually. They are,” Zajeer replied, then frowned slightly. “Well actually, it's only my brother, the zabrak, who's here right now. My sister went off to do Force knows what on Corellia and I lost track of her, but she loves to disappear like that. I don't worry too much about her. I worry more if I hear about her on the galactic news or she calls me, because at that point I know she's gotten herself into some serious trouble.”

“I see,” said Theron with a nod. “Would there be any chance that I could meet your brother?”

“Oh, sure. I'll just comm him and get him to come to the bridge. One sec,” Zajeer pressed a button on the electronics sewn into his glove

“I was just finishing my shift in the med bay and was about to head back to my quarters... What do you need?” The gruff voice that came over the intercom was unlike anything Theron had expected. Whoever the zabrak was, he didn't sound too friendly.

“Don't give me that tone, A friend wants to meet you,” said Zajeer, punctuating his sentence with a soft _tsk_.

“Oh, was that all?” Now, Theron could hear a smile in the zabrak's voice. “I was worried that Nima had gotten up to her usual shenanigans.”

“Not this time,” Zajeer replied, chuckling. “Please come to the bridge. We won't keep you too long.”

“Right-o. See you in a moment,” With those words, the zabrak cut the connection, and then Theron could distinctly hear some heavy footsteps moving through the corridors, growing louder as they approached the bridge. Not even a minute later, a very tall, broad-shouldered man walked onto the bridge. He had the typical spikes of a zabrak, but he also had hair on his head. The hair was black and for the most part it covered the back of the head, thin tendrils coming forward to thread through the spikes and frame either side of his face. His skin was very brown, marked with thin lines of tattoos that divided his face up into sections. If Theron was being honest, he would say they were striking... but nothing was so striking as the Zabrak's amber eyes, which were piercing and sharply angular. They locked onto Theron without fear, daring him to comment.

“Nadrun, this is Theron Shan, a rogue SIS Agent. He'll be staying with us for a few days while we make our way over to Yavin-4,” said Zajeer, effectively breaking the two of them out of their staring contest. He had been speaking to Nadrun at first, but now he turned to face Theron. “Theron, this is Nadrun,, my brother. While he's here he's the medic aboard _The Stargazer,_ so if you've got any injuries that you want cleaned or tended to he's the zabrak you should turn to. He can perform most simple operations and is an expert with a kolto probe, so there's no need for us to visit a hospital and risk getting caught.”

“That's impressive,” Theron commented, and then he extended his hand towards Nadrun,. “I'm okay for now, but if I need anything later then I'll be sure to let you know. It's nice to meet you, Nadrun.”

“Likewise,” Nadrun replied, with a respectful inclination of his head. He took Theron's hand, shaking and then squeezing it in a firm yet gentle grip. “Akaavi tells me that you are responsible for bringing the light back to my brother's eyes, so I can only be pleased to meet you,” Then the zabrak smiled at Theron. It was a warm smile that reached the amber eyes and made them light up from within like twin flames. In the backdrop of his darkly tanned skin and the dark lines on his face, the contrast was strikingly beautiful.

Theron also became aware that Nadrun was wearing a similar outfit to Zajeer, but where Zajeer's layers were black and gray, Nadrun's were of a deep blue and an equally dark gold. The leather gloves Nadrun was wearing felt soft and smooth, but his fingers were thicker and felt stronger than Zajeer's. Height-wise, the Zabrak was just a little bit taller than Theron,

“I'm going to go relax, now, but it was good to meet you Theron,” Nadrun told him after a moment. “I look forward to knowing you better.”

“Thanks, Nadrun,” Theron replied. “You can go now. I won't keep you.”

“You say that as if you could _stop_ me from leaving,” Nadrun teasingly replied, but then he turned to Zajeer and opened his arms. “C'mere, you. Get your hug and then I'll go have some alone time with Akaavi.” As soon as the words had left Nadrun's lips, the small nautolan launched himself up out of his chair and then all but threw himself at Nadrun, hugging the zabrak for all he was worth. Theron watched, feeling his heart _melt_ as Nadrun wrapped his arms around Zajeer and held him close, dropping a gentle kiss on the top of his brother's head. Zajeer let out a strange, indecipherable noise of contentment, nuzzling Nadrun's chest. It sounded like words, but was nothing Theron had ever heard. Was it Nautola'?

“I love you too, cuddle bug,” Nadrun said to the nautolan in his arms. Zajeer then squirmed, broke out of Nadrun's hold, glared at him, and then stuck out his tongue.

Laughing outright, Nadrun turned on his heel. He gave a polite nod of farewell to the two of them, and then swept out of the room. As the zabrak walked away, Theron could see the broad shoulders shaking with barely-contained laughter.

-o-

“ _Cuddle bug?_ ” Theron asked, as soon as Nadrun was out of earshot. “That's _adorable_.”

“Not you, too,” Zajeer groaned, flopping ungracefully back into his chair. “He's been teasing me for _ages_ over how clingy I can be. It's ridiculous.”

“Why would he tease you for being clingy?” Theron asked, confused. “I don't get that impression from you,”

“Says the man who cuddled me all night when we were on Rishi, letting me snot and cry all over his pyjamas before falling asleep in his arms. Says the man who spent all the time with me when I sprained my ankle so that I wouldn't be all alone upstairs. Says the man who laid beside me after he was rescued and asked to hold me like he knew I _needed_ it right at that moment,” Zajeer replied, then sighed softly. He shook his head once or twice, then made a dismissive gesture with one of his gloved hands.

An awkward silence settled between the two of them.

“Never mind, just forget that I said anything,” said Zajeer after a moment. Then, he forced himself to sit up straight and occupy his hands with the ship's controls, pointedly not looking in Theron's direction.

“Zajeer?” Theron softly asked, as the silence between them dragged on. “Are you okay?”

“I can't help it, you know?!” Zajeer suddenly snapped, punching the ship's control console with considerable force and making Theron let out a yelp of surprise. “My father... he walked out on me when I had just barely learned to walk and talk. Satele Shan... She came and told him that he had to either go be a Jedi or quit his training to raise and be a father to me. She told him to consider what was best for the galaxy as a whole before he made his choice, and after that day he started to drift away. Eventually he left me with nothing and no one, and now when I go without touch or hugs for too long I fall into a depression that only physical contact can pull me back out of. I _need_ the contact. I _need_ to feel like I'm not alone... and it _hurts_.” The nautolan's shoulders drooped, and his bright golden eyes slid shut. He looked like he might cry.

“Oh, _Zajeer_ ,” said Theron, sadly, moving to sit on the console just to the right of Zajeer.. “I thought _I_ was the only one... I didn't realize my mother had hurt _you_ , too.”

“Your _mother_?” Zajeer asked, opening his eyes and looking over his shoulder at Theron, warily.

“Yeah... My mother. You already know her, ” Theron replied. “In fact, the whole _galaxy_ knows her.”

“Wait...” Watching Zajeer's face, Theron saw the exact moment that the realization sunk in, and Zajeer's posture stiffened. “Don't tell me your mother is..."

“Yeah...” Theron replied, quietly. “She's the Jedi Grandmaster, Satele Shan.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I'm so sorry, Theron... I had no idea that you were in the same situation that I was,” Zajeer punctuated his sentence by swivelling his chair to face Theron, reaching over, and placing a hand on one of the human's knees. He squeezed gently, and one of Theron's hands came down to cover it and squeeze back. “It must have hurt every time she called you her 'Agent' instead of acknowledging you as her son as she ought to.”

“Jedi aren't allowed to form emotional attachments,” Theron replied. “When she left she said I would be a distraction she couldn't afford.”

“That was what my father said before he left,” said Zajeer, sighing softly but leaving his hand where it was. “He told me he wasn't allowed to stay with me and still be a Jedi, and that it was for the greater good of the galaxy if there was nothing around him that could make him go to the dark side... He basically told me that if I stayed with him, I would always be on his mind and that if he was facing off against the Sith, they might find out about me and find a way to hurt me and cause him to fall into darkness... He didn't want to abandon me, but at the same time he didn't want to give up all that he had been training for, so he walked away. He left me on Tython in the care of the temple... I never saw him in person again.”

“You've had no physical contact with him?” Theron closed his hand around Zajeer's, picking it up as he spoke. “None at all?”

“None. He writes occasionally, but it's not the same as having him here with me. The parcels we exchange mean nothing when he won't even let me comm to show him my reactions to his gifts or allow me to see him reacting to the things I sent him.” As he replied, Zajeer turned his hand over in Theron's grip, holding onto the human's hand. “I know he gets them and I know he appreciates them because he writes as much, but it's not the same as seeing his smiling face. Hell... I don't even know what his _voice_ sounds like these days... Is it the same? Has it changed? I just don't know.”

“That's rough,” said Theron. “You deserve better than that.”

“I know I do, Theron.... and for that matter, so do you.” Suddenly Zajeer was up on his feet, leaning forward so that the tips of their noses almost touched, and all Theron could see was a pair of enormous golden nautolan eyes that whirled happily in their depths. “Thank you for being so understanding. I know you've had it just as bad.”

As a reply, Theron closed the distance between them and rested his forehead against Zajeer's. Then Zajeer pulled his hand free of Theron's grip and wrapped both arms around Theron's shoulders. With nowhere else to go, Theron's arms wrapped around the nautolan and pulled him closer. Zajeer went to him willingly, shifting his stance so he could straddle one of Theron's thighs and rest his weight there. He felt Theron shift so the edge of the console he was perched on wouldn't cut off his circulation, but the human soon settled and Zajeer was able to close his eyes and relax.

Neither one moved for some time, content to stay exactly as they were. Star-crossed, touch-starved lovers finding comfort in each others' arms.

-o-

The pair took no notice of a red-haired woman with aristocratic features walking towards the bridge. Each was so lost in the comfort of the other's embrace that they didn't hear Risha's approach, nor did they see how her hands clenched into fists at her sides or how she grit her teeth to keep from screaming at them to get away from each other. They didn't see her sneer of contempt. Contempt that was directed solely at the human who dared to hold _her_ nautolan captain so close to him. As far as Risha was concerned she'd been there first, and Zajeer was a _fool_ for not choosing a loyal woman like her.

Instead, he was prone to gambling his hearts on the whims of strangers. Too trusting for his own good.

Already, Zajeer was showing signs of infatuation... Signs that Theron had filled the holes in Zajeer's hearts. He had fallen in too deep, and Risha couldn't shake the feeling that one day Theron would hurt Zajeer as badly, if not _worse_ than what Dodonna had done. That one day Zajeer's precious Theron would disappear and he would be alone again. As it was, Zajeer was holding Theron as if he were the most priceless and most valuable treasure in the galaxy.

But SIS Agents were trained to lie. and Theron could be lying... What if Theron was spying, working with the Revanites in secret?

Well, she would just have to get rid of him. One way or another, she would make him see the error of his manipulative ways. More importantly, she would have to make Zajeer see that she was the one and only logical choice when it came to partners. At least _she_ wouldn't betray him.

-o-

“Well isn't _this_ cute,” came a snide voice from somewhere to Theron's left, and two things happened.

The first was that Zajeer _squawked,_ let out a series of loud _clicks_ and _pops_ that _had_ to be a nautolan expletive, and scrambled to put some distance between himself and Theron. The second was that Theron whipped his head around to see who had crept up on them. Zajeer, despite the fact that he had tripped over his feet, was able to seat himself and swivel his chair around to face the door so he was looking in the same direction as Theron. His expression was one of eyes-widened, open-mouthed shock. It was as though he wasn't quite prepared to face off against the person who had interrupted him.

The human woman, Risha Drayen, was standing in the doorway that lead to the bridge with her arms folded over her chest. Her expression was unreadable, but the manner in which she had spoken had been cold, sarcastic, and more than a little bit _rude_. She turned her head from Zajeer to Theron, and her unreadable expression morphed for an instant into a triumphant smirk before she quickly schooled her expression back to neutrality. For Theron, however, the message could not be more clear. Though his past meant he could be a little slow on the uptake when it came to social cues, there was no mistaking that what Risha felt towards him was hostility. Why, Theron didn't know, but if she wasn't hostile then why would she smirk after scaring Zajeer off of him?

He didn't have that long to think, however.

“The hell's your problem, Risha?” Zajeer had found his voice, and by the sound of it, he _wasn't_ amused. Indeed, the nautolan's expression had darkened and his golden eyes were narrowed and curiously flat, devoid of any sort of whirling. “You know I hate it when you sneak up on me.”

“My _problem_ , Zajeer, is that you're supposed to be focusing on the stars ahead of you so we don't crash. Instead, I find you sitting here, allowing yourself to be distracted like a child with a shiny new _toy_ ,” Risha replied. She was no longer looking in Theron's direction, instead staring down her nose at the nautolan.

“Zajeer, I can go get some of the things I'll need unpacked while you finish flying to _Port Nowhere_... It's fine,” Theron offered.

“If you're going to go, Theron, then Risha should go as well, because she's right.” The nautolan glanced toward Theron as he spoke. Seeing that Theron didn't look hurt by anything he said, he pressed on. “I AM distracted by your presence, Theron, but if she remains then she'll be just as much of a distraction because she probably won't stop talking the entire time she's here. I need to keep my attention on the _stars_ so we don't crash.” Turning to face Risha, Zajeer punctuated his statement with a smug smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes.

It was an expression that said. ' _I'm right and you blasted well know it, now get off my bridge._ '

Theron watched as Risha swallowed hard, glanced helplessly from Theron to Zajeer, then spun on her heel and left. The tails of her long yellow coat flapped about with the speed of her departure, and he could hear her footfalls grow heavier as she stormed off, stomping like a spoiled child.

-o-

As Risha left the bridge in a full-on _snit_ , Zajeer turned his chair around to enter a command into the console in front of him, With a pneumatic _hiss_ , the corridor leading to the bridge sealed itself, a hidden set of doors sliding out of the walls. A mechanical chirp informed them that the doors to the bridge were now locked, and that no one else would be able to disturb them until he commanded the ship to unlock the doors again.

“I'm so sorry that you had to witness that,” Zajeer told Theron, shaking his head. “I don't know what's gotten into her or what she's got against you, but I don't condone that behaviour at all. M'not going to let her keep pushin' you around. You'll always be welcome here, Sweetheart.”

“I'm glad,” Theron replied, and Zajeer watched as he let out a breath and _sagged_ a little where he sat.

“The ship's on autopilot, y'know? And I already checked that the autopilot was functional before I set it for the coordinates of _Port Nowhere_.” With his thumb, Zajeer indicated a yellow, blinking light on the console. “When that light turns green we'll drop out of hyperspace automatically and then I'll cruise us the rest of the way into the hangar. Nadrun'll coordinate the others and help load up the supplies, and then we'll get ourselves back in the air and head for Yavin-4. Should be a day or two's jump through hyperspace and then we'll be there in time to coordinate our efforts with Darth Marr and your mother.”

“That sounds like a plan,” The human punctuated his sentence with a nod of agreement, and they settled in to watch the stars whiz by.

-o-

“Hey, Theron?” Zajeer's question took him by surprise, and he turned his head to meet the nautolan's gaze. Seeing that he had Theron's attention, Zajeer opened his mouth and let out a series of alien _clicks_ and _pops_ that sounded unlike anything he'd ever heard. There was no harshness. The clicks and pops formed a rhythmic pattern that Theron found soothing. once he moved past the alien sounds and gave himself over to the emotions they stirred within him. There was a sort of flow to the sounds. A rhythm that made Theron's eyelids droop and sent all the tension out of his neck and shoulders.

“What _is_ that?” Theron asked, completely mesmerized by Zajeer and his odd little performance.

“It loses something in the translation, but I was sorta _singing_ to you. It was a song my father used to sing when I was a tadpole and I had trouble falling asleep. I know to you it sounds like a bunch of clicks and pops and it probably doesn't make that much sense, but to me it's a lullaby.” Having explained what he'd been doing, Zajeer let out a breath in a wistful _sigh_. “I keep that memory close, so I don't forget that he loved me once.”

“No wonder I found it soothing,” Theron replied. “I couldn't understand the words, but I could feel _emotion_ behind it like it was my own.”

“That's jus' another way we communicate,” Zajeer explained, tapping the side of his own head. “Through my extra abilties, I projected my emotions at you to convey the emotions and the meanings beyond the simple clicks and pops. It's not often that a human is sensitive enough to pick up on those signals, but maybe it's because you and I have been through a few things. You're getting closer to me, so you're more likely to pick up on things I'm tryin' to communicate to you.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, nodding to Zajeer. As he did so, he saw the yellow light on the console flick to green out of the corner of his eye, and the stars stopped blurring past them. He was then treated to the sight of Zajeer switching his attention to the stars in front of them, expertly pressing a few buttons to deactivate the autopilot and set the ship to manual control. He took control of the ship, which didn't so much as _jolt_ with the change from automatic to manual. Instead, the freighter responded to Zajeer's guidance like an extension of the nautolan himself,

“Wanna try landing her, Theron?” Zajeer asked after a moment. “ _Port Nowhere's_ dead ahead, and it looks like they've opened up the hangar for us,”

“Sure... I'll try it.” Theron replied, “Shouldn't be too hard.”

“Nawwww. My ship's a good girl. She won' try anything.” Zajeer rose, and indicated for Theron to take a seat in the chair he had recently vacated. “If you're gonna fly her you're gonna need t'be in the captain's chair, though. T'is the rules.”

Nodding, trembling with excitement, Theron sat down and placed his shaking hands on the controls.

This was _The Stargazer_. The ship that had been instrumental in the war against the Empire. Without Zajeer the Void Wolf would still be at large, and between the Void Wolf's blockades and the Revanites patrolling the galaxy it would have been _impossible_ to travel undetected. Swallowing hard, he pressed a button and the ship moved forward with only the lightest of touches. A couple more taps of the buttons, and Theron had the ship perfectly aligned and slowed to a safe speed for landing. With no further direction from Zajeer, he guided the ship into the hangar spun her about while still hovering so she faced the door, and then set the ship down onto her landing gears. Once there, he gave the ship's engines the command to power down, and listened as the noise they made softened to a barely audible hum before falling completely silent. There was a creaky noise as the ship settled fully onto her landing gears, and then nothing.

Once the ship had settled, he glanced at Zajeer for confirmation.

“You did good, Theron. Not bad for your first time flyin' her,” Zajeer told him, giving him a pat. He then entered a series of commands into the console and in the distance Theron could hear the sound of pneumatic hissing, hydraulics working, and heavy doors opening.

“I was openin' the cargo hold and lowerin' the access ramps so it's easier to lead everything,” Zajeer explained, as he gave the nautolan a questioning look. “Nadrun knows the drill. He'll hear the doors openin' and he'll know to get the others organized. As for us, we just stay here on the bridge. Maybe when she's all loaded up and refueled I'll let you take her off and fly her around a lil before we set the autopi-”

 _BANG BANG BANG_.

Whatever else Zajeer was saying was drowned out by someone pounding on the door.

-o-

“Captain? I know you've got Theron in there!” Came the frustrated voice of one Corso Riggs. “Is he freeloadin' or is he pullin' his weight around here?”

' _Great. Here we go again,_ ' Zajeer thought, inwardly cursing Risha and her temper tantrums. She had been especially bad as of lately, and no doubt she was behind this latest interruption. When would that woman learn that he would never be interested in her? Her first words to him had been bossy, arrogant, and outright condescending. She'd rubbed him the wrong way from day one and he had never quite come around to seeing her as a friend as he had the others. Even Guss, once he had learned to stop lying through his teeth, was an improvement over someone who talked down to him like he was incompetent.

He hadn't recognized it as _abuse_ until recently, having heard what Dodonna said about his crew before she betrayed him.

Feeding the commands to the ship's computer, Zajeer opened the door to the bridge and saw Corso standing there, looking somewhat sheepish.

“M'sorry I yelled at you, but Risha was gettin' on my last nerve and I had to pretend I was givin' you a talking to so she would stop breathin' down my neck and focus on loadin' up some of the rations and medical supplies we're smugglin' for our allies.” Corso explained. Then, glancing around to ensure that Risha wasn't within earshot, he learned closer to the two of them. “Between you and me, that woman _seriously_ needs to get laid.”

“Well, you tell Risha that Theron is pulling his weight, and that she needs to mind her own damn business,” Zajeer replied. “I'll have you know that Theron here was the one who landed the ship just now. He has also offered to help me cook our supper tonight so it doesn't take as long. M'gonna let him take the ship off once we're all loaded, and then I'm gonna engage the autopilot, get Bowie to take over the bridge, and we'll start the food prep. Then it'll be a simple matter of me cookin' everything and we can all dish ourselves some food that actually tastes like somethin'.”

“Really? You landed the ship?” Corso asked, looking at Theron with wide brown eyes.

“I did. It was surprisingly easy, considering I've never flown a freighter before. I usually stick to smaller spacecrafts, like shuttles,” Theron replied.

“Awesome. Maybe we'll get _you_ to take a shift on the bridge while the _rest_ of us take a night off,” Corso teased, giving Theron's ribs a gentle nudge.

“If it would keep Risha out of my hair, that's not a bad idea,” Theron replied, Corso letting out a bark of laughter.

“You're not a bad guy, Theron,” Corso told him. “I'm glad Zajeer invited you.”

“So am I,” Theron replied, and with the next words Zajeer felt his hearts beat just a little faster. “I wouldn't trade this for anything.”


	3. Chapter 3

Loading, refuelling. and relaunching the ship went as smoothly as it possibly could, given the circumstances.

Considering that her earlier behaviour has been atrocious, Zajeer delegated the task of counting all the rations and medical supplies to Risha for the duration of their trip. He knew that such a monotonous, repetitive task would keep her occupied through most of the three days they were supposed to be travelling, and that by the end of it she would hopefully be bored enough to be grateful for a change in scenery and carry out her part of the mission without complaints. While the loading was in progress, Theron borrowed Zajeer's comm system and sent a coded message to his allies in the Republic, letting them know that he was safe and had found a way to get to their next objective, travelling with Zajeer on his ship instead of with one of them. They had been amazingly fine with that, telling him that they would see him planetside and to enjoy his little break from the mission while he could.

Zajeer hadn't been eavesdropping, but it was kind of hard to ignore a call from Satele Shan on his ship's secret holofrequency.

The more Satele had spoken to Zajeer the more she seemed curious about him, but he'd grown up considerably and his experience since leaving Tython had honed his intellect. There was no possible way she could connect the bold and confident smuggler persona with the emotional and sensitive young boy who had been left in the care of the temple at her insistence. He deflected her attempts to ask about his background with ease, Telling her a partial truth about his past in the streets of Nar Shaddaa and then calling for Theron to let him know that the Jedi Grandmaster was looking for him. Satele had seemed disappointed, but her expression quickly shifted to one that was businesslike when Theron walked out of the bridge and came to stand in front of her.

Once she was suitably distracted by the appearance of her son, Zajeer busied himself with a set of folding, portable furniture, having already designated a portion of the common area as a makeshift dining room. He was well within earshot but out of Satele's sight, and he could hear that she seemed pleased with Theron's travel arrangements, telling him to make himself useful if Zajeer asked him to and encouraging him to establish a good working relationship with the remaining crew of _The Stargazer_. She also told Theron to enjoy his visit, and Zajeer was pleased to hear Theron's response. He was _way_ ahead of her, and she needn't worry.

Then Theron ended the call and turned around.

Seeing that there were still a few chairs to set up, he fell into place beside Zajeer, unfolding them and setting them up around the table. They set up the rest of the dining room in comfortable silence, putting out bowls and utensils and cups for their dinner and ensuring that everything was evenly spaced around the table. Eight chairs and place settings in total, and all of them were evenly spaced around the round table, if a little cramped. Hopefully the prospect of a delicious meal would be enough for peace.

“What's on the menu tonight, Zajeer?” Theron asked, as Zajeer finished laying out the last of the utensils.

“I was thinkin' I'd make my version of a fish stew,” Zajeer replied. “I bought all the stuff we need and I've got th'seasonings to make it taste right. I jus' need help slicin' all the vegetables and makin' the fish into bite sized chunks. I'm hopin' you'll enjoy it as much as the crew seem to... We don't have it very often, so it's a treat. I've even bought some dinner rolls t'have with it.”

“I'm sure I will. Does it have any heat to it that I should be worried about?” Theron asked.

“Nawh, it's more on the savoury and comfortin' side,” said Zajeer, patting Theron on the shoulder. “Now, c'mon. Let's go into the kitchen and get started on the choppin'. Sooner we're done the sooner we can get it simmerin' and developing some nice flavours.”

-o-

The end results were certainly colourful from all of the different vegetables, and the smells that came off of the bubbling stew pot were starting to make Theron's mouth water. He had no idea what seasonings Zajeer had used because the nautolan hadn't been following a recipe. After they'd finished chopping up all the ingredients, He'd been throwing this and that into the pot at particular times, occasionally tossing in another pinch of powdered seasonings or adjusting the ratio of liquid to solids so that it wasn't too thick or too runny. It was a delicate balancing act, but he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

Zajeer's sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he'd removed his leather gloves, and as he gave the pot another stir, he looked right at home in the ship's little makeshift kitchen. A couple of secret compartments had opened to reveal pots and pans of varying sizes, and from one of them Zajeer had pulled out the portable cooking element and the pot he was using for the stew, The dinner rolls he'd bought were in a serving dish and sliced into halves in case someone didn't want to fill up on bread. There was even a block of real butter that surprised Theron, and Zajeer had some of it set out on a plate to soften so it would be easier to spread.

“Here, Theron. Taste.” Zajeer's voice cut into Theron's observations as a small spoon of stew was offered to him. “Tell me if you think it needs anything, but I've been tasting it all along and now I think it's perfect.”

Obediently taking the spoon, he cautiously blew on it to make sure it wasn't too hot, and then popped it into his mouth. Layers upon layers of flavours exploded on his tongue. All of the different vegetables Zajeer had used had come together to form a richly flavoured and almost luxurious base for the stew, which amazingly wasn't all that fishy. There were notes of fish here and there, but they weren't slapping him in the face or making the stew taste unappealing. If anything, they only _enhanced_ the flavour.

“This is _incredible_ , Zajeer. Where did you learn to cook like this?” Theron asked, before he could stop himself.

“You'd be amazed at what you can learn while you're livin' as a homeless orphan on Nar Shaddaa – Hey, don't look at me like that!” Seeing Theron's eyes go wide in horrified reaction, the nautolan raised his voice a little. “I didn't have a consistent source of food and I lived with a buncha other kids. We banded together to protect each other from the perverts that'd take us and sell us into slavery, and we foraged and stole whatever we needed to survive. We all took turns cookin' but I was the one who liked it the most, so more often than not the job fell to me. The other kids were fine with washin' dishes if they didn't have to cook.”

“Sometimes the stuff I got to work with was like one of those mystery boxes on the cooking shows. Y'know the ones. With the random objects in them that are meant to challenge the participants,” Zajeer continued, pausing just long enough to let Theron nod. “I got odd combinations just like that and with what I had, I did what I could. There was a lot of trial and error and hit and miss, but it taught me a lot about ingredients and their different applications. Eventually I got to where I am now. I don't use recipes, but I'm always tasting what I'm creating and building up the layers of flavours. It's like makin' artwork, only _this_ is art you can _eat_.”

“Yes... it certainly is,” Theron agreed, thoroughly impressed. “I would pay good money for something like this at a restaurant.”

“Maybe someday, when the galaxy hasn't gone to hell, I'll open up a little food stand on Nar Shaddaa, and I'll make food like this for the masses. Give free portions to the homeless so they don't have to steal and earn themselves criminal records to survive. Force knows I've got more than enough credits to fund it,” Zajeer's expression grew wistful for a moment as his words cause him to imagine the possibilities, but then he seemed to shake himself out of it. “Anywho, it is what it is. We gotta make the best of our lives and live every moment like it's our last, because we only get one life and we never know when it's gonna be over.”

Theron nodded, mutely. Zajeer's unexpected wisdom had struck home, and had rendered him _speechless_.

-o-

“Hey, Theron? If you'd like, you can use the intercom and let the others know to wash up for dinner, and then go use the facilities yourself before we sit down. You can also check the cold storage unit and see if there's anything you'd like to drink.” Seeing that Theron was at a loss for words, Zajeer decided to be merciful and give him an easy out, the human quickly nodding his agreement and moving to do what he'd suggested. He'd never seen Theron scramble so quickly to get out of his company before, but he had obviously touched something in the human and had given him much to think about.

Truth be told, Zajeer surprised _himself_ with the things he had said, He couldn't blame Theron one bit for his hasty retreat.

-o-

Having left the kitchen, Theron slipped into the bathroom to make use of the facilities and freshen himself up. After ensuring that his hair wasn't losing its spikiness, he made his way around the side of the ship and slipped into Zajeer's quarters using the code he'd seen the nautolan enter. Once he was safely locked inside the room, he let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding and allowed his shoulders to slump for a moment, tension flowing out of him in a rush.

His respect and admiration for Zajeer had grown in leaps and bounds in the last hour, and he was _clueless_ when it came to expressing it in words. As they'd set up to work on the stew, stripped off their gloves, pushed up their sleeves and washed their hands, he'd seen how natural and at home the nautolan had looked in a kitchen setting, He'd seen how Zajeer became a different person when he was cooking. He was confident in a much more natural way than when he donned the smuggler persona. His motions were swift and sure. He'd taken care of the fish in short order, and then he and Theron chopped the various ingredients. Once they were done chopping, they'd taken turns adding them to the pot, Zajeer throwing in the occasional pinches of seasoning.

The whole time, Zajeer's golden eyes had lit up from within, whirling with pleasure as he worked.

Then they'd stopped, and Zajeer had said something so profound that Theron had no idea what he should say. None at all.

Then Zajeer had given him an out, and he'd taken it. Gratefully.

Now he was here, picking up his bag from Zajeer's floor and changing out of his red jacket. He had a few nicer outfits carefully folded into the bottom of his bag so that they wouldn't wrinkle, and it was one of these that he decided to put on,

He stripped himself out of his other outfit, and selected a nice black pair of jeans and a red button-down shirt with a nice collar. No ties, but he layered a black vest on overtop of that, leaving it untucked and undoing some of the top buttons to reveal his collarbones and more than a hint of smooth, bronzed skin. The sleeves, he rolled and secured just below the elbows so the cuffs wouldn't get anywhere near the food, and then he took a quick glance at himself in Zajeer's mirror and fixed any spikes that had fallen out of place when he changed. It wasn't a look he normally wore, but the shopkeeper on Coruscant had insisted he would look good in it, and he needed something nice to wear that wasn't too elegant, in case he needed to blend in with a crowd.

With a last check to make sure he didn't have anything embarrassing stuck in his teeth, he made his way to the dining table.

He hoped that Zajeer would approve of this outfit. After Zajeer had gone out of his way to make Theron feel so welcome and at home, dressing nicely for dinner was the very least he could do.

-o-

“Oh look, the _spy_ is dressed to impress,” said Risha, who was seated at the table alongside of Corso. She sneered with contempt, looking down her nose at Theron like he was a pile of shit and she had just stepped in him.

“Stop it, Risha,” said Corso, shooting to his feet and to defend Theron. “He didn't do anything. Leave him alone!”

“You mean he didn't do anything _yet_ ,” Risha retorted, “How do we all know he's not working for the Revanites?”

“He's not!” Corso's voice got louder, more insistent. “From what I gather on Rishi, Zajeer rescued him from the Revanite base and he was really banged up, they _tortured_ him in there!”

“It could still be a ruse, and have you _looked_ at him lately? If he's not trying to manipulate our Captain by looking like _that_ , then--”

“I would _never_ do that!” Theron shouted, finding his voice. Hearing the anguish in his cry, Risha actually shut up for a moment, staring at him as if she had never seen him before. And maybe she _hadn't_. She'd allowed her prejudice against him to blind her to the person that Theron actually _was_ , and now he could seize the moment, take back some of the dignity she tried to take from him.

Before the redhead could try to cut him down again he pressed onward. “Look, I don't know what I've done to slight you, _Risha Drayen_ , but I have _never_ done anything to hurt Zajeer. I don't _want_ to hurt Zajeer, and even if hurting him meant we would be successful in our mission, I _still_ wouldn't want to do it! I would find _another_ way! _Any_ other way.”

“I see I've struck a nerve, but you're a trained _spy,_ ” Risha argued, her tone pure venom. ”Spies are trained to _act_ and to _lie_. How can we be sure that you're not just pretending to be our ally? How can we be sure that you're telling us all the truth?”

“I just told you. I'm _not_ trying to hurt him. If I wanted to hurt him, I would have done it already. I've had ample time alone with him while the rest of you were out fighting the Revanites on Rishi. I could have slit his throat and run off, but I didn't because I don't _want_ to!” Theron hated himself for the way his voice had just cracked, but _stars_... just the thought of Zajeer laying there, throat slashed, drowning in his own blood, was enough to make bile rise up in his throat. It was enough to make him want to be violently _ill_. Then there was the thought of those beautiful eyes going dull and dead, never again to light up or whirl out of joy. It took all of the fight right out of them. He clutched at his own arms, hugging himself as tears fell from the corners of his eyes.

“I don't _ever_ want to hurt him...” he told them, brokenly. “...I _love_ him.”

“Theron, go hide in the Captain's room, where you're guaranteed to be safe.” Suddenly, Corso was right in Theron's face, looking at him with sympathy, and though he spoke quietly there was a grim determination in his voice. He put his hands on Theron's shoulders and gave them a supportive squeeze as he spoke, and Theron had to fight hard to keep from sobbing out loud. “I know he gave you the codes because I saw you go in there earlier, and I'll keep Risha from following you. When the others show up, I'll tell Nadrun and Akaavi what she did, and they will deal with her before the Captain arrives. You've been through enough of this jealous drama today, and I can tell you're a good person. You don't deserve any of this.”

Lacking the words to show Corso how grateful he was for the intervention, Theron reached for Corso's shoulders, grabbed on, and pulled the man, armored outfit and dreadlocks and all, into a tight hug.

“Hey. Hey. It's okay, Theron...” Corso whispered, patting Theron awkwardly on the back, “... but you've really gotta go before Nadrun comes. Things are gonna get _really_ ugly here in a second and I don't want you to have to deal with any more of this tonight.” He grabbed Theron by the shoulders again and gently pushed him to an arms' distance away, prompting him to let go.

“Thanks, Corso,” Theron whispered, then turned on his heel and fled for safety, running as fast as his legs could carry him.

-o-

There was no shortage of profanity in the crew of The Stargazer's vocabulary. Three raised voices and the outraged roars of one wookie could be heard in the distance, all of them angry and for the most part, directed at one person. As Zajeer emerged from the kitchen, carrying the pot of stew, he saw that Corso, Akaavi, and Nadrun had Risha cornered against a wall. Risha herself looked pale and frightened, her makeup a streaky mess, her hair falling out of its elegantly upswept style,

“What the _HELL_ is going on in here?” Zajeer shouted, causing every person other than himself to immediately fall silent.

“Well?” Zajeer set the stew pot on the table and put his hands on his hips, staring everyone down.

“Brother, I apologize. This situation has gotten out of hand,” Nadrun replied, turning to meet Zajeer's gaze with an apologetic smile. “However, you might want to consider firing Risha. Or at the very least confining her to her bunk until further notice.”

“Why, what did she do?” Zajeer asked. Then, he realized that someone was missing and a flash of red-hot anger swept him up in in its blaze. Suddenly, his voice lost all of its warmth as he he turned his attention towards Risha. “ _Where's Theron?_ ”

Risha didn't answer.

“Well? Out with it! _Where is he?_ ” Zajeer snapped, having no patience for any more of Risha's drama. He took a step toward her.

“Theron is safe, Captain,” said Corso, grabbing Zajeer's arm to get his attention. “I stopped Risha from really tearing into him, and I sent him away to your quarters before all of this yelling started. It's just Risha that we have to deal with, and honestly... I don't think she should be allowed to partake in the stew considering Theron helped make it and then she started attacking him.”

“Agreed, No stew for Risha. I'll divide her portion between myself and Theron, because he worked hard,” Zajeer replied.

“I don't want it anyways, if _he_ made it, It's probably _poison_.” Risha spat, and the rest of the crew drew in a collective gasp.

“Y'know...” Zajeer began, “I've put up with a lot of your shit today, Risha, I could've punished you more severely for making our guest feel unwelcome, but I thought that maybe, just _maybe_ , a few days of repetitive work would be enough to snap you out of whatever this is.” He jerked his arm free of Corso's grip and stepped towards her again, his golden eyes stormy and dark. “I don't know what you think you're trying to pull, but I'm tellin' you right now to _stop_.”

“But he's a _spy_ ,” Risha protested. “He might hurt you.”

“If you'd been paying any attention to me at all, Risha, you would have realized that I've been off ever since Dodonna did what she did on Corellia.” Zajeer told her, speaking slowly and simply in the tone of voice that one used with a very small child. “Theron heard me cryin' on Rishi. He recognized that I needed t'be held and comforted, and he stayed with me all night so I wouldn't wake up alone in th'morning. Since then, the two of us have been growin' closer. I greatly respect him, and at this point I'd trust him with my life.”

“ _What_?” Now Risha looked surprised, and more than a little ashamed of herself. “When were you crying?”

“Remember that one night we were all supposed to play cards?” Zajeer asked, waiting for her to nod. “That night, I lied to Corso and claimed to be sick to my stomach... but I wasn't sick. I was _depressed_. I needed space so I could cry it all out.”

“I knew somethin' was off, but I didn't press him for answers out of respect,” Corso added. “He seemed really, really down.”

“But why didn't you tell me that?” Risha asked, her voice very small now. “I might have tried to help.”

“Risha, the reason I've never spoken to you about my problems is because every time you spoke to me when we first met, you were bossy and condescending, looking down your nose at me. I felt like if I came to you with _anything_ , you would sneer and tell me what an idiot I had been. When Dodonna betrayed me, I didn't come to you because I feared that you would say you told me so,” Zajeer replied. “That initial impression stuck with me for all of this time, and now that you've been attacking Theron out of petty jealousy and spite, I want you to know that I will _never_ love you the way you want me to. We're like oil and water, you and I. We just don't mix.”

“I... I see.” Now there was no disguising the shame in Risha's voice. “I suppose I've done enough. Said enough.”

“You have,” said Zajeer somewhat coldly.

“I'll just... go focus on my task in the cargo bay. I'll eat my rations and I won't complain. Split my portion of stew with Theron. You and he deserve it more than I do.” With those words, Risha stood up a little straighter and made to leave the room.

“Risha,” Zajeer's words made her stop, and she looked over her shoulder to listen.

“If you ever hurt Theron again, you'll be dropped at the nearest station. I'm not going to say it twice.”

“Understood,” she replied, continuing on her way. As soon as she was out of earshot, Zajeer let out a gusty sigh and turned to the other five. Akaavi, Nadrun, Bowdaar, Corso and Guss were standing, hands on their weapons and ready to back him up.

“The rest of you, try to relax and enjoy your dinner,” As he spoke, Zajeer spooned up a couple of hearty bowls of stew, buttered a couple of the dinner rolls and placed one on top of each bowl. He stuck a spoon in each one. “I'm gonna go have dinner with Theron in my quarters. The desk'll have to be our table.” With that, he turned and walked towards his quarters. Hopefully Theron would be okay with just the stew and dinner rolls.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, Theron? S'Zajeer... I've got my hands full and can't enter the code, so could you please get th'door?” Zajeer called, keeping his tone soft and light. After all of the yelling that had gone on, he didn't think Theron would appreciate it if he raised his voice just now.

After a moment, the door hissed open and he was able to step inside, where he immediately placed their bowls on the desk. Then, he turned to Theron, who was standing close by. Seeing Theron's altered attire made him pause and do a double take, but after a moment he couldn't stop the wide and appreciative smile that spread across his face. That shirt. That vest. Those jeans. They were much more form-fitted than the big bulky jacket Theron normally wore and Zajeer was given a tantalizing glimpse of bronzed skin at Theron's collar. He knew that Theron was in good shape after seeing him in his pajamas, but it was nice to be reminded.

“Wow,” he said before he could quite stop himself. “Theron, that outfit's _fantastic_ on you.”

“You think so?” Theron shyly asked, meeting Zajeer's gaze for the first time since he'd entered. All at once, Zajeer's smile vanished.

Those beloved eyes were more green than golden at the moment, It was a green that was murky, dark and dull... Silvery tear tracks were threading their way down Theron's cheeks, and as Zajeer watched, _horrified_ , there was a soft hitch in Theron's breath and then another tear snaked its way down. He could see that Theron was _trying_ to smile at the compliment, but it was falling flat.

Stew forgotten for the moment – [' _It'll still be too hot to eat, anyways!'_ ] -- Zajeer stepped closer. Without hesitation, he reached for the human, pulling him securely into an embrace.

-o-

A hug was all it took. The instant Theron's head touched Zajeer's shoulder, a dam within him _broke,_ With a quiet sob, he wrapped his arms around the nautolan, clinging and hugging him for all he was worth. His tears soaked into the shoulder of Zajeer's shirt.

The whole time he was crying, Zajeer stayed exactly where he stood, supporting Theron's weight easily and rubbing gentle circles into his back. At one point, Theron felt rather than saw the nautolan leaning closer, nuzzling against the hair on the left side of his head and pressing a soft and comforting kiss into his hairline. One kiss turned into two, then three, then four, and soon Theron found himself smiling through his tears at the gentle and slightly ticklish sensation. Zajeer's touch was so light, and his lips were so _soft_.

“Thanks, Zajeer,” Theron told him, pulling away. He offered the nautolan a weary smile, which was readily returned.

“You're welcome, Theron. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't stand up for you or comfort you when you're hurtin'?” Zajeer's hands moved to gently squeeze Theron's shoulders as he spoke, and then he let go.

“Not a very good one, I suppose... but you came to check on me and that's all that matters,” Theron replied.

“I did, and I brought our supper too,” came Zajeer's surprising reply. “We're jus' gonna eat in here after everything that happened tonight... I hope that's alright with you.”

“More than alright. Some space away from the others is exactly what I need, because Risha's words deeply hurt me.” Theron let out the breath he'd been holding in a soft, shaky sigh “I don't think I can forgive her for assuming I would hurt you.”

“She was jealous of our closeness. Theron, but it doesn't excuse her behaviour.” Zajeer replied. “If anything, I'm _disgusted_ by th'level of prejudice she had against you. You don't deserve t'be treated like that by anyone and for what it's worth, I didn't believe her when she said you might be lying or takin' advantage of me. I saw how appalled you were earlier when I suggested that you might, and I actually feel like I should apologize to you for goin' in that direction. I _know_ you. You would _never_ hurt me unless you absolutely had to, and I know that if you _did_ hurt me you would never forgive yourself. Your heart is far too kind for that.”

“You're right, Zajeer... I will _always_ try to finish a mission without hurting you.” Theron's voice cracked a little, but the human swallowed hard and continued, “I _am_ a trained spy, I _do_ know how to act and how to lie without being detected, and I know at least seven different ways to kill you before your body ever hits the ground... but I would _never_ do those things to you. The thought of hurting or killing you is a thought that makes me want to be violently ill.” Having said this, Theron let out a shaky breath and looked away.

“I know, Theron... I _know_.” Zajeer reached up and gently cupped Theron's chin, coaxing him into meeting his gaze. “Jealousy blinded her to th'good I've always seen in you. She didn't realize that you're the reason I'm back to bein' my usual cheery self.” Zajeer glanced over towards the desk, where two very generous bowls of stew sat waiting, then gestured towards them. “To her credit, she knows now that she was wrong about you. She told me to divide her portion of stew up between the two of us. She also understands that she'll be fired if she attacks you again... and she knows now that I don't and _won't_ return the romantic feelings she has for me. I told her I'd never be able t'love her th'way she wants me to love her.”

“So... She won't be attacking me again?” Theron asked.

“If she knows what's _good_ for her,” Zajeer replied, and there was a steely note to his voice that sent a tiny shiver of arousal skittering along Theron's spine. That was the _Captain's_ voice speaking, and when Zajeer used _that_ voice he meant business.

For a moment neither of them spoke, and then Zajeer walked over to a small closet set into the wall of his bedroom. He pulled a folding chair out as well as a couple of small objects that Theron couldn't quite see at first. He set the chair up beside the desk, and then he placed the objects at the centre of the desk.

Then Theron saw what Zajeer had placed, and something inside of him _melted_.

They were candles, _Real_ candles. Zajeer lit them with a hastily struck match.

“Call me an old fashioned romantic if you want, but a candlelit dinner seems like a good idea after th'day we've had,” the nautolan explained, seeing how Theron was staring. “You can take th'desk chair. It's nicer to sit in than th'folding one.”

Wordlessly, Theron sat himself down in the desk chair. Zajeer was right. The desk chair felt very sturdy and comfortable and was wonderful against his lower back. From this new position He could see that Zajeer had brought everything they'd need, and the buttered dinner rolls that sat atop each bowl looked irresistably soft and fresh. Then the savoury smell of the stew hit his nose, and suddenly he was _ravenous_. He hoped he wasn't drooling all over himself.

“Dig in, Theron,” said Zajeer with a chuckle. “I'm right behind you.”

The nautolan settled into the folding chair and picked up one of the bowls. He nudged the other towards Theron, who picked it up and bypassed the dinner roll entirely to take a big bite of stew. By now, it was the perfect temperature. Still warm enough to warm them from within, but not so hot that they would need to waste time blowing on it. It was also the most delicious thing he had tasted in months, being savoury and comforting without being too heavy. After months spent living off of rations in the safehouse on Rishi, he'd almost forgotten what a real home-cooked meal tasted like... and this was _definitely_ real food. There weren't any weird stabilizers or preservatives. There were only real ingredients, and all of the names of the vegetables had been easy to pronounce.

“This stew is absolutely _incredible_ , Zajeer. Did you come up with this yourself?” Theron asked after several bites.

“Sorta. S'an adaptation of a stew my father used to make.” Zajeer replied between bites. “I never learned th'recipe, so I had to come up with my own version. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever see him again. If I'll ever get t'cook for him.” The nautolan picked up a half of his dinner roll and took a bite, chewing on it with a thoughtful expression.

“The Force only knows,” Theron muttered, taking a bite from his own. He sighed blissfully at the generous layer of butter.

Zajeer sighed and fell silent, and Theron did the same. The rest of their meal was consumed in a comfortable silence as in front of them the flames of the candles flickered and danced, bathing them in a gentle golden light.

-o-

Having finished their meals, they stacked their bowls and blew out the candles. Zajeer stood first, opening the door to his quarters and placing the bowls on the floor outside of it so Seatoo would clean them and put them away. The droid tended to get fussy if Zajeer didn't give him a small task every now and then,

He was just about to close the doors again when he saw Risha step out from around the curve of the corridor, devoid of her usual layers of cosmetics. With a determined look on her face she walked towards the bowls on the floor and bent to scoop them up when she reached them, gathering them carefully into her arms. For a moment she paused, looking Zajeer in the eye, and then her expression softened to one of silent apology at the same time as Zajeer sensed her regret. She peeked over Zajeer's shoulder to shoot the same look in Theron's direction, and then she turned and walk away, taking the dishes to the small kitchen to wash them and put them away herself. All of this in under a minute, and though she'd done so without words, she had communicated so _much_.

Closing the door, Zajeer turned to face Theron, and smiled as he saw the warmth and softness of Theron's gaze.

“Feelin' any better, Sweetheart?” He asked, gently, and Theron nodded.

“Yeah, I am,” Theron replied. “I'm not sure, but I think she just apologized to us with her eyes.”

“She did. For th'first time since I met her, she stood still enough for me to read her emotions... With her emotions she was saying that she still loves me, she wants us t'be happy, and she's sorry for hurting the person I care about most.”

“Huh...” Theron muttered, but then he seemed to shake himself as he realized what Zajeer had said. “Wait... are you talking about-”

“ _You_ , Theron,” Zajeer interrupted, with a nod. “Since th'first night on Rishi, it's only been _you_. It's a big reason why I invited you here in th'first place. I wanted us to have some space to get to know each other without th'Yavin-4 mission hangin' over our heads. I've grown t'care about you very, very much, and I'll follow you to wherever this thing we have decides t'take us.”

A moment passed, then two, and then Theron stepped closer to Zajeer. Green-golden eyes met swirling gold, and then Theron leaned forward to claim Zajeer's mouth in a kiss. The inner side of Theron's lips still tasted of the stew, and his mouth felt warm against the nautolan's. Rising onto his toes, Zajeer pressed more firmly into the kiss, prolonging the contact.

Eventually they had to break apart for air, but as soon as they'd caught their breath they came together again. This time Zajeer was surprised as Theron's strong hands first cupped his cheeks, stroked their way down his chest to his sides, and then slid even lower to rest on his ass, Then, as they continued to kiss, Theron picked Zajeer up and set him carefully on the edge of the desk. This made for easier access as Zajeer could spread his legs and allow Theron to move between them, and that was exactly what he did.

Not one to waste an opportunity, Theron pressed in between Zajeer's open thighs, his lips migrating from Zajeer's lips to trail soft kisses along the nautolan's jaw. As a result, Zajeer's vocalizations were swiftly reduced to soft sighs and the occasional happy clicking. He arched into the kisses, pressing his chin against Theron's lips, feeling his toes curl and uncurl inside the leather of his boots as every touch of the human's mouth threatened to drive him crazy.

“Oh,” Zajeer gasped, as Theron's kisses moved farther down. One hand came up to undo buttons of Zajeer's shirt and push his collar aside, and the human kissed and nibbled along the left side of his now exposed throat. A light but well placed bite to the point where his neck and shoulder met, and Zajeer was _gone_ , reduced to a happily quivering bundle of nerves under Theron's mouth and hands.

Far below, between the nautolan's legs, a certain part of his anatomy was beginning to _stir,_ threatening to slip out of its sheath.

-o-

Theron wasn't sure what had come over him. He wasn't usually so forward and he _definitely_ wasn't the sort to start making out with a potential boyfriend, but there was something to be said about being on Zajeer's ship, being invited to share Zajeer's bed, and being treated like he meant something to someone. It had been so long since anyone had cared about him as Zajeer had, and all he could think to do was give the nautolan a little bit of pleasure to thank him for everything he'd done.

As it was, Zajeer had spread his legs beautifully so that he could step in between them and align his hips with the nautolan's. Curiously, there was no bulge to be found. If Theron recalled correctly, however, then there wasn't _supposed_ to be. Nautolan males tended to keep all of their equipment internal, so to speak, and it protected their most sensitive anatomy from injury.

“Theron,” the nautolan gasped, snapping him out of his observations. “Do you want to... Are you going t'take this further?”

“I want to say yes, but do _you_ want me to go any further?” Theron asked.

“What I _want_ and what would be _wise_ are two very different things, Theron,” Zajeer replied, biting his lower lip, The nautolan squirmed where he sat, and averted his golden gaze, “Admittedly. I'm a little bit scared to move too fast after what happened th'last time. M'worried it'll end in heartache once you've learned everything there is t'know about my body. M'worried you'll grow bored of me th'same way Senator Dodonna was bored after havin' me in her bed a couple of times.”

“I see,” Theron replied, taking a step back to allow the nautolan some room to breathe. “I'll stop, then, for now.” A part of Theron understood where Zajeer was coming from, but there was another part of him that was disheartened by the rejection. He showed this by averting his gaze, taking his eyes off of the attractive body in front of him.

“ _Please_ , Theron...” Zajeer's voice cracked, and Theron turned his head to look at him again. There was a pleading expression on the nautolan's face, golden eyes as wide as they could go and lower lip trembling a little. “ _Please_ don't misunderstand. I want you. I want you more than I've ever wanted _anyone_. I jus' think we should take our time and keep our hands _above the belt_ until we've known each other a little longer. I want t'be sure that when we _do_ have sex, it'll be because we're ready to face the consequences.”

“Oh, Zajeer...” Theron stepped closer again, and pulled Zajeer into his warm embrace. “I want _you_ too, but if you're not ready then I won't force you. I would _never_ force you. I could never be so cruel to you. Never. I'd sooner shoot myself in the foot.”

“I know you wouldn't, which is why you're still sleepin' in _here_ and not in one of th'bunks. I might not be ready for sex, but I won't say no to being held all night.” Grinning cheekily, Zajeer wrapped his arms and legs around Theron. Golden eyes swirled once or twice in their depths, and then the nautolan tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Theron's nose.

“Are you _always_ this adorable?” Theron complained, but it was halfhearted at best and he knew that his smile was giving him away. Adjusting his position, he slipped a hand behind Zajeer's back and under his knees, and lifted him up to carry him over to the bed. Once there, he carefully set Zajeer down on the edge of the bed, sitting down beside him.

Zajeer didn't stay there for long, however. Instead, he stood and walked over to his wardrobe, opening a drawer and pulling out a set of pajamas in what looked like black and yellow. He smiled at Theron, then zipped around the bed to the other side of the room. Once he was there, he pressed a glowing blue button on the wall and a door hissed open to revealed the bathroom attached to his quarters. A bathroom Zajeer quickly disappeared into, sealing the door behind him.

-o-

Zajeer emerged from the bathroom with teeth freshly brushed, head tentacles unbound, and clothes changed to a yellow sleeveless t-shirt and soft black pajama pants. His clothes including his boots were down the laundry chute where Seatoo would take care of them, and Theron was waiting patiently for his turn. Apparently, he'd taken Zajeer's disappearance as his cue to fetch his night clothes. The almost-threadbare black shirt and red pajama pants from that first night on Rishi were back, and when Zajeer stepped out of the bathroom Theron quickly stepped in and closed the door behind him. First Zajeer could hear the sound of a sonic shower. Theron freshening up and removing all the hair product from his hair. Next the water ran in the sink, and he could hear Theron brushing his teeth. Lastly, he heard the rustle of fabrics as Theron gathered up his clothes.

The bathroom door hissed open and Theron stepped out. His hair was now soft and devoid of its usual spikiness, and he looked a lot more comfortable than he had when he was wearing the dressier clothes. He dropped the clothes in a pile on top of his bag of belongings, and let his boots fall to the floor with a _clunk_.

“Which side of the bed is yours, usually?” Theron asked.

“I usually sleep on the left side, so feel free to make yourself comfortable on the right,” Zajeer replied. “Are you turning in?”

“Not going to lie to you... but it has been too long since I slept in a decent bed. The beds on Rishi were alright, but yours is _so_ much better, and I know that in a couple of days we are going to be camping out in tents in the jungles of Yavin-4,” Theron explained.

“Point taken... We should get some decent shuteye while we can,” Zajeer agreed. On that note, he crawled up his side of the bed, flipped back the covers, and burrowed down under the orange quilt and soft looking black sheets. Then, as a thought occurred to him, he poked his head back out to talk to Theron. “Feel free to throw your clothes, even your boots, down the laundry chute in the bathroom. Seatoo, the protocol droid, will freshen and repair them and you'll get everything back first thing tomorrow.”

“Really? I'll do that, then.” Theron replied. He picked up all of his clothes, even his normal outfit from earlier, and carried them over to the bathroom boots and all. He dumped them down the laundry chute, and then he came back over to the bed, flipping back the covers and crawling in. Once there, he rolled onto his side to face Zajeer.

“Comfortable?” Zajeer asked, and Theron looked thoughtful for a moment, then squirmed down under the covers and nodded.

“Good.” Smiling, Zajeer wormed his hands out from under the covers and clapped them twice. The lights went out, and for a moment the room was quiet save for the soft sound of their breathing.

“Hey, Zajeer?” Theron asked after a moment, his voice sounding soft and hesitant.

“What is it, Theron?” Zajeer replied. “Is something bothering you?”

“No... I just wanted to say thank you, before I forget. Thank you for inviting me. For letting me fly your ship. For cooking with me. For sticking up for me. For the candles. For being here.” Squirming closer, Theron groped around until he found Zajeer's hand. He interlaced their fingers, giving a gentle _squeeze_. “Your support, your trust and your respect mean so much to me.”

At a loss for words, there was only one thing for Zajeer to do. He scooted closer and tugged Theron's arm around him. His free arm snaked around and pulled the dear sweet human close so he could rest his head on one broad shoulder. Once settled, he nuzzled the tip of his yellow-freckled nose into the point where neck and shoulder met, pressing a soft kiss there as well. Then, He tightened his hold on Theron, nuzzling again when he felt Theron's arm wrapping around him and their legs tangling together under the covers

' _I trust you. I love you,_ ' said Zajeer's actions, communicating what words would not. It was his last conscious action before the emotional turmoil of the evening caught up with him and he drifted away, lulled by the sound of Theron's soft and steady breathing.

-o-

After Zajeer had fallen asleep, Theron lay awake for some time, deep in thought.

 _None_ of Theron's training had prepared him for how a blue-purple nautolan, with yellow patterns of spots that decorated his nose and head tentacles, would come to mean to him. He was overwhelmed by a desire to do something nice and surprise Zajeer. The problem, of course, would be coordinating with Zajeer's crew to pull it off. Risha he wasn't sure about, but surely _someone_ would be able to help him.

There was just one minor detail left to worry about. Would any of the crew know what Zajeer preferred to eat for breakfast?


	5. Chapter 5

When Theron woke the next morning, he was immediately aware of two things.

The first was that Zajeer had somehow curled even _closer_ to him as they slept and was now lying practically on top of Theron, smiling in his sleep. The second was that he was currently as hard as a _rock_. What was worse what that the traitorous part of his anatomy was trapped against the nautolan's thigh. There was no way to untangle himself from around Zajeer without it rubbing against him, and if he woke Zajeer to ask him to move, the alien would catch on to his embarrassing predicament – _again_. That one time Zajeer had teased him when he'd popped a boner on Rishi had been _quite_ enough.

“Why do you have to be so blasted _adorable_?” Theron grumbled, glaring at the nautolan.

A soft, snuffling _snore_ and a crinkling of his cute, yellow freckled nose were Zajeer's only answers.

Sighing in exasperation that was directed more at himself than at the nautolan using him as a body pillow, Theron carefully squirmed his way out. Twice he had to freeze and bite his lip hard so that the friction wouldn't make him gasp out loud, but eventually he managed to escape the Nautolan's hold.

His first course of action was to peek outside the room and see if his clothes had been cleaned and returned yet, and sure enough they had. The protocol droid had folded everything neatly, which would make it easier for Theron to pack the dressier clothes away. His boots, which were on the floor, had been shined and polished and all of the scuff marks in the leather were gone. His jacket, he was pleased to notice, had been mended. Seams that had started to let go were expertly restitched, and a hole in the collar that had been bothering him was nowhere to be seen. Whoever this 'Seatoo' was, he was a droid who had been programmed with a variety of useful skills.

Grabbing the clothes, he put them all away except for the jeans, a pair of socks, and his boots, From the additional clothing he had packed, he pulled out a v-necked sweater that was the same shade of olive green as his eyes. He'd wear that with the jeans, but for footwear he'd just have to make do with his boots. He hadn't thought to bring any of his more casual shoes to wear, worried that with how much travelling he'd done they would end up lost.

He pointedly ignored his erection, fetching the small case that contained his hygienic supplies and slipping into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

-o-

Zajeer was still fast asleep when Theron emerged from the bathroom fully dressed, cleanly shaven, hair styled, and minus one awkward boner. The nautolan had curled into a tight ball after moving into the warm spot Theron had left behind, and now his arms were wrapped around the human's pillow.

Theron left him there and moved as quietly as he could, tiptoeing out of the quarters and heading towards the kitchen. If he was quiet enough... maybe he could examine the contents of the cold storage unit and the nonperishable items in the food storage, and figure out what Zajeer liked to eat for breakfast.

“Hey Theron! What're you doing up so early?” Corso asked, effectively derailing Theron's train of thought.

Spinning around, he saw Corso walking towards him, brown eyes warm. Corso was dressed more casually in a brown sweater that brought out his eyes and a brown pair of jeans that were worn, almost blown out at the knees. Though his dreadlocks were still pulled up and away from his face, he looked much more comfortable and casual than he had on the previous night.

“That answer actually depends on one thing,“ Theron replied. “Do you know what Zajeer likes to eat for breakfast?”

“Zajeer? Hmm... No. I haven't actually _seen_ him eat breakfast because by the time he does I'm already busy, but maybe Bowie knows.” Corso punctuated his statement with a casual shrug of his shoulders “Bowie's always hanging out in the kitchen when he's not busy workin'. Let's go see him. C'mon!”

-o-

“ _Zajeer eats a lot of different things for breakfast,_ ” Bowdaar told them. “ _He_ _ **likes**_ _a lot of different things._ ”

“While it's nice to know that he isn't _picky_ , that doesn't exactly help me out.” said Theron, brow furrowing in thought. “I was hoping to find out if he has a _favourite_ , and then I was hoping to try and _make_ it for him.”

“ _He would be grateful for anything you do for him,_ ” said Bowdaar. “ _You could brew his morning Caf and he would thank you for it._ ”

“ _Right_... Thanks, Bowie. We'll have to ask someone else. Maybe Nadrun will know.” said Corso, and Theron found himself being grabbed by the arm, pulled out of the kitchen, and lead along the corridor by his overly enthusiastic assistant.

-o-

“It's zero seven hundred. You'd better have a _damned_ good reason for barging into my medbay, Riggs--” Seeing who was with Corso, however, the big zabrak wiped the scowl from his face. “Oh, nevermind... Hello Theron. What can I do for you? Do you have any pain?”

“Er... No. No pain,” Theron replied, backing up. “I was actually wondering if Zajeer has a favourite breakfast food. I was hoping to make it for him.”

“He doesn't get to have them very often because he rarely finds the time to make them, but I know that he loves pancakes. Covets them, in fact,” Nadrun replied. “Make them for him once and you'll have a friend for life.”

“Pancakes? It's as simple as that?” Theron asked.

“It's as simple as that,” Nadrun replied, punctuating his statement with a nod. He lifted his gloved hand and spoke into his wrist communicator. “Akaavi, my love... Would you be so kind as to share your buttermilk pancake recipe with Theron? He wants to make something special for the Captain.”

“Of course. Send him my way and I will share it with him,” Akaavi's reply came almost immediately, and her low voice sounded uncharacteristically gentle.

“If you don't know where to find her, Corso can take you there,” said Nadrun, meeting Theron's gaze. His amber eyes were gentle now, and he smiled. “I would take you to her myself, but I need to stay here in the medbay. I 'm responsible for everyone's injuries – which is no easy task with Guss Tuno on board.”

“I understand. Thank you for your help, Nadrun,” Theron told him, reaching out to pat the zabrak on the shoulder. Nadrun's smile grew a little wider to show a sliver of teeth, and and gently bowed his head in acknowledgement.

“You're welcome,” said Nadrun. “I'd do anything to see my brother smile.”

-o-

“Nadrun and Akaavi? _Really?_ ” Theron asked wide eyed, as they passed out of earshot. He could feel his eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hairline.

“Really,” Corso replied, chuckling at Theron’s expression. “I _know_. I was just as surprised as you are.”

-o-

“There you both are,” said Akaavi, meeting them in the corridor. The mandalorian zabrak had decided to come and find them herself, and there was a serious set to her expression as she approached. She had a datapad in one of her armoured hands, which she extended towards Theron.

Theron reached out to take the datapad automatically, but nothing could have prepared him for the way she suddenly grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into a tight hug. She thumped him once or twice on the back, hard enough to drive all the air right of his lungs, and then she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away from her to look at him. Her green eyes were crinkled at the corners as she smiled a wide smile.

“I _knew_ you would be good for the Captain. I just _knew_ it!” Akaavi's exclamation was the loudest he'd ever heard her speak, and when she continued she showed no sign of moderating her volume any time soon. “I didn't get a chance to speak with you last night after Risha threw her little temper tantrum, but I would have thrown her out an airlock _myself_ if she hadn't stopped attacking you. I know damned well that you're a better match for him than she is.”

Swallowing hard around a lump of emotion that had lodged itself in his throat, Theron gripped her arms, looking her right in the eye.

“ _Vor entye_ , Akaavi,” he told her, bowing his head.

“ _Aliit ori'shya tal'din_ ,” She replied. “Family is more than bloodline.”

With these words, she patted Theron on the shoulder but _gently_ this time. Then she turned on her heel and walked away.

-o-

“Right... now we just need to find all of the ingredients and follow Akaavi's directions. Shouldn't be too hard,” Corso chirped.

“You'll have to help me find all of the cooking tools and mixing bowls as well. I have no idea where he keeps anything in the kitchen,” Theron replied.

“Yeah, but that part's not so bad. I know where everything is so while you're looking for the ingredients, I'll get the tools! Already, Corso had his nose buried in one of the cupboards and was digging around inside of it. “D'you want me to set up the table while I'm at it?”

“If you could, that would be great. I've never actually made pancakes from a recipe before. I usually use a boxed mix.” said Theron with a shrug. “I know the concept behind cooking from scratch, but when it comes to actually applying the science of the ingredients, I'm a little bit clueless.”

“My advice would be to not think too hard about it,” Corso told him. “You're makin' pancakes from a recipe. You're not slicin' into a complex computer system.”

“This is true,” Theron agreed, He'd just turned his attention to the datapad, when a _clatter_ by the doorway alerted him that they were no longer alone.

“Did.. did somebody mention _pancakes_?” A soft, gravelly voice asked, and Theron turned around to see a mon calamari standing in the door frame, wearing the loose brown clothes of a Jedi padawan and wringing his webbed hands together with a hopeful expression on his face. He looked and sounded _young_. “Can I help you make them?”

-o-

A dropped mixing bowl, several misplaced eggshells, two flour _explosions,_ a grease fire, and several blackened pancakes later, Theron was at his wit's end.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I've messed _everything_ up!” Guss Tuno wailed, He was currently in the corner watching as Theron muttered darkly under his breath, having directed him to stand in one corner of the kitchen and not touch _anything_.

"Not. Helping.” Theron replied through gritted teeth, feeling a headache coming on.

At this point, there were only enough ingredients for one more batch that would be big enough to feed everyone, and he was running out of patience. He was just about ready to scrap the whole idea and go back to bed, when a softly cleared throat alerted him to a new presence. Sighing in exasperation and ready to snap at the newcomer to give him some space, Theron spun around only to freeze when he saw the very last person he wanted to see in the doorway. Risha. She was wearing her makeup again, and her hair was as elegantly coiffed as ever, but she had on a dark fuschia sweater made of an overly fluffy type of yarn. With it, she had a pair of dark blue jeans that were almost black, and some dark slip on shoes that looked worn in and comfortable.

For a moment, neither of them moved or spoke.

“Forgive my intrusion.” Finally, Risha was the one to break the silence, and when she spoke her voice was soft and hesitant. “I couldn't help but overhear that you were having difficulties and I wanted to offer you some help. Zajeer will be up and about at around zero eight hundred, and at this rate you won't have the pancakes ready in time.” She folded her arms nervously, hugging herself. Everything about her body language was submissive, subdued.

“You are aware that I'm trying to do this for Zajeer?” Theron asked her, raising one eyebrow. As much as he wanted to give her a chance, he was skeptical about her intentions. This was a woman who had viciously attacked him. This was a woman who had deeply hurt him with her assumptions.

“Yes,” she replied. “I just want to help you.”

“You're not about to sabotage my efforts?” If Theron's eyebrow rose any higher, it would fly off his head. He folded his arms defensively over his chest.

“Theron,” she said his name quietly, getting his attention, “I was wrong. About you. About _everything_. All I want to do now is to do something that does right by you and the Captain. I might never be able to fix what is broken or gain back the trust I have lost, but damnit, I want to try. Please let me try?”

“Alright, Risha,” Theron replied, letting out all of his breath in a rush and dropping his arms back to his sides as her words put him at ease. “It takes a strong person to admit that they are wrong, and I appreciate it. I appreciate you. You might not have my trust at this point in time, but you have my respect.”

“Thank you, Theron,” said Risha. “I won't disappoint you.”

And she didn't. As soon as she finished talking, she rounded on the still whimpering Guss.

“ _Guss!_ Quit your infernal snivelling and get out! We've got a lot to do and only a short time to do it, and we don't have time to babysit you right now!”

Not needing to be told twice, Guss fell silent. He ducked his head and ran out of the room, which worked _wonders_ on Theron's headache.

-o-

When Guss shuffled past her, _sniffling_ to himself about ruined pancakes, Akaavi Spar dropped what she was doing and made a dash for the kitchen,

When she arrived, it was to a disaster area, and her eyes went wide at the mess and the smell of burning grease and blackened buttermilk pancakes that permeated the room. She was about to ask what had happened, but then she realized that _Guss_ had happened... Then she saw Risha. Risha was reading from the datapad to familiarize herself with the recipe while Theron quietly cleaned up some of the mess. Presumably, they were going to make one final attempt.

She cleared her throat loudly and both of them _jumped_. Theron whirled about with wide eyes. Risha froze where she stood, looking _petrified_.

“Don't _scare_ me like that,” Theron groaned, sagging against the counter. “If I spill any more of these ingredients, we won't have enough to feed everyone.”

“I'm here to help, actually, and to keep _her_ from pulling anything,” Akaavi replied, shooting Risha a dark look.

“Risha's not here to sabotage anything, so leave her be,” said Theron. “She actually got Guss to leave so we could hear ourselves _think_.”

“He was standing here snivelling like a baby, and I could see that it was starting to give Theron a headache,” Risha explained.

“Oh,” Now Akaavi felt like an ass, but she quickly shrugged it off. She pulled off her armoured gloves to bare her hands, and moved over to where the mixing bowl now stood, having been washed and prepared for one last attempt at pancake batter. She pulled it closer to herself, and then she reached for the measuring cups “If you're not here to sabotage, then let's work together. Between the two of us and Theron, we can't possibly fail.”

“Right.” Risha replied. “I'll work on the wet ingredients and you work on the dry?”

“Sounds fair to me,“ Akaavi agreed. “When we're through, I'll whisk everything up so that the texture will be nice and fluffy, and Theron can cook them. I'm not entirely sure what happened in here, but now that _we're_ on it we should be able to get things done in time.”

“While the two of you are working on that, I'll just clean up the rest of this mess and get the pan and the cooking element ready to go,” Theron told them. “As for what happened... it was Guss. _Guss_ happened. He spilled flour, dropped eggshells in the mixing bowl, and was a menace to try and work with. Then when we finally fixed the batter, he got overly excited and he didn't want to wait for me to fetch the butter or set the pan to a safe temperature. He tried to cook the pancakes in a bunch of _cooking oil_ , which splattered _everywhere_. The resulting fire blackened the pancakes, and is why the kitchen smells so burnt.”

As Theron explained, Akaavi shared a look with Risha and the two of them winced, prompting Theron to chuckle.

“Anyways... We're all here and Risha and I have a truce. We'll get this done,” he told them, smiling a warm smile that brought out the flecks of gold in his eyes and made Akaavi's breath catch in her throat. Beside her. Risha swallowed audibly around a sudden lump in hers. Akaavi spared a glance in Risha's direction and saw that the human woman's eyes were damp, but also that she quickly nodded, as moved by Theron's beauty and kindness as Akaavi had been,

Sure enough, they did just that.. Soon, _The Stargazer_ was filled with the aroma of hot, fluffy, buttermilk pancakes.

-o-

When Zajeer finally emerged from his quarters, he was dressed in cargo pants, a pair of ratty old sneakers, and a striped purple and yellow sweater that he knew did wonders for his eyes. He immediately became aware that something smelled incredible. He breathed in deeply through his nose, letting it out in a sigh. Then he rounded the curve of the corridor and headed for the common area only stopped in his tracks at the sight of Corso, Guss and Bowdaar putting the finishing touches on the dining table. At first he was wondering what was going on, but then all was revealed as Theron came out of the kitchen flanked by Akaavi and Risha. All three of them were smiling proudly, Akaavi bearing a bottle of syrup and Risha carrying butter...

Theron was wearing a green sweater that made his eyes stand out and sparkle like _jewels_ , and in his hands was a serving platter, full to the brim with...

 _Pancakes!_ The fluffiest, most perfect looking pancakes he'd ever seen! Even so, they paled in comparison to the beauty of the man who was carrying them.

“What's all this?” He asked, voice cracking with emotion as he walked over to the set dining table. “What's the occasion?”

“There's no special occasion,” Theron replied. “All of this is because I told them I wanted to do something nice for _you_.” He gestured with his chin because his hands were full and indicated the rest of Zajeer's crew. Then Zajeer looked around him, seeing all of the smiling faces, and how everyone's eyes were overly bright. “You have one hell of a crew here....” Theron trailed off abruptly then shook himself once, shaking his head.

“Actually... _Crew_ is the wrong word. You have one hell of a _family_.”

-o-

Theron couldn't have asked for a better reaction. As soon as he'd finished speaking, he had to hurriedly hand off the pancakes to Akaavi because Zajeer let out some very happy _clicks_ and launched himself across the room, zigzagging through the rest of the crew and flinging himself into Theron's arms.

“Keep this up and it will only _ever_ be you, Sweetheart,” Zajeer whispered in his ear, squeezing Theron tight as he kissed him on the cheek.

Then the nautolan stepped back. He pushed up the sleeves of his sweater so they wouldn't get syrup on them and plunked himself down at the table. He glanced up at everyone still standing, and gestured for his crew to join him, which they all did, leaving the space on Zajeer's right for Theron. Theron took his seat gratefully, and then gestured for Akaavi to start passing the pancakes around.

Breakfast was finally _served_.


End file.
